Nothing about the rural road looked familiar or friendly. Tall, imposing trees and overgrown weeds choked the front of the dilapidated home. Windows were boarded up. There was a gaping hole where the front door had been. I shivered, wanting to be far away from here... wherever here was. Walking felt harder than it should be, and I stumbled off the chilly asphalt, wincing as sharp gravel dug into my feet. My bare feet? I stopped and looked down. Chipped pink nail polish peeked through the dirt... and blood. Mud caked the legs of my pants, leaving the hems stiff. It made sense, seeing as how I wasn’t wearing any shoes, but the blood ... I didn’t understand why there was blood staining the knees of my jeans. My vision clouded and dulled, as if a gray film had been dropped over my eyes. As I stared at the weathered asphalt under my feet, large, smooth rocks replaced the tiny stones. Something dark and oily seeped over the rocks, slipping through the cracks.
